You Know It's Gonna Be Me
by Diana Prallon
Summary: The others would accept him, the King would praise him, but there was no warmth in a world in which your kin deserted you.


**You Know It's Gonna Be Me**

How can one even begin to explain Gwaine Green?

The man was flawless.

Story was that his automatic hair-flip had been what had given the advertisers the idea of the famous L'Oreal move – and the tagline; "I'm worth it", it was said to have been delivered by him after someone complained about one of his latest pick-ups showing up at his work and throwing a tantrum at Gwaine going out with someone else the night before. The fact that his first internship _had_ _been_ in L'Oreal just a little before the campaign started was one of those bits of gossip everyone knew.

The man had been an underwear model for Abercrombie and Fitch in a summer break from college… In America.

His favourite movie was Skyfall (previously, it had been The World Was Not Enough), although he always made it clear that _not_ shagging Q was Bond's biggest mistake on the screen ever.

He had met Brangelina in a plane – and they had told him he was handsome and invited him for a threesome. He had turned them down.

Gwaine was handsome – although that was putting it mildly – and just when he was completely still. Once the man begun to move, he became a bundle of sexuality ready to explode at any given point – and if he set his eyes on a target; it was a target acquired. He oozed charm and was sensual without putting any effort. Man had turned gay after a single smile. Women despaired in wish to be in his bed.

Gwaine had grown up watching unending marathons of James Bond movies with his father up to the point he had grown more suave than the man himself – and just about as cocky. Once he had hit his teens and Queer as Folk had aired in channel 4, he had discovered his soul-mate in Stuart Alan Jones. Indeed, RTD himself had been rumoured to say that seeing Gwaine in action was like seeing one of his characters move out of paper and screen to become real.

Everybody knew Gwaine.

And everybody knew what he was like.

He didn't do relationships – he didn't even do boy toys.

He saw you – he had you – he forgot you.

Simple as that.

No rebounds. No repeats. No morning fucks.

No mornings, full stop.

He liked them pretty, he liked them young and he liked them once.

That was how he met Merlin.

Popular wisdom was that Gwaine Green had a word for everyone – for anyone he wanted. But Merlin? He wouldn't know. There had been loud music and too much alcohol in his system to worry about that. And Gwaine – he was just there, walking up to him on the dance floor and moving invitingly in front of Merlin. Of course, that had been cause of nervousness that almost freezed him – and led Gwaine to look next to Merlin, to where Mordred was fighting his urge to laugh at his friend's antics and wink.

Merlin was sure he had lost Gwaine then, which allowed him to sigh in both disappointment and relief. He had no idea how to act when _Gwaine Green_ was looking at him like he was the next meal in his menu.

It was short lived as Gwaine used the opportunity to come closer and plant his hands on Merlin's hips, guiding him as he swayed to the music, his left leg in the middle of Merlin's tights. It was probably wise given that Merlin had lost all ability of higher brain function, all the blood seeming to have left the building and rushed towards his crotch. His arms moved in some disconnected flailing, but instead of looking at Merlin funny, Gwaine chuckled and let go of Merlin's hips to set Merlin's hands on his before gripping him again and bringing Merlin closer.

Merlin remembers losing his breath, eyes open wide as Gwaine smiled – open, inviting, alluring – and kissed him; lips crashing on his, teeth pulling on his lower lip, tongue delving inside his mouth, one hand yanking his hair without letting go off his hips, still swinging to the fast tempo of the music, rubbing himself shamelessly on Merlin and he was coming from that kiss alone.

And Gwaine, Gwaine wasn't laughing or leaving – he just smirked as if it had been his plan all along and kissed Merlin again as he passed his fingers through Merlin's belt holes and pulling him away into the night.

It was nothing like the things Merlin had dreamed off while wanking – it was nothing like the few awkward making out sessions he and Mordred had shared. It was a completely different reality, one in which he wasn't even able to babble as he usually did as Gwaine walked him into his apartment, two blocks away from the club they had been. He could just stare and wonder.

He had heard about the flat – everyone did. It was supposed to be the ultimate bachelor pad; every corner filled with stories of sex and an unending string of one-night stands. Merlin had always imagined it to be polished, sleek and modern; lacking anything feeling or homey – it just didn't match a bachelor pad.

Well, there weren't any crochet pillows, so, it didn't really look like a _proper_ home; but it still didn't match Merlin's mental image. Sure, there were a few shiny appliances in the kitchen corner; but it was no _loft_. There was something incredibly off-putting about the earth-toned decoration; wooden panels and red futon that stood in the middle of the two chaise-sittings that were the sofa corners. There were even a few pictures over the TV rack and a discarded shirt had been left upon an ottoman seat.

Gwaine seemed to expect some sort of shock when one entered his apartment, because he said nothing, merely grabbing a couple of beers from his fridge and handling one to Merlin.

"Would you like the tour?" he asked, a hint of humour in his voice.

"Sorry" Merlin stammered, absolutely wrong-footed.

"Alright" said Gwaine, smiling. "I'll give you the tour anyway – when you're naked."

That made the beer go down that wrong pipe in Merlin's throat, and he coughed and sputtered, eyes wide and wondering how many seconds it would take for Gwaine to notice his mistake and lead him out of his flat and out of his life.

But Gwaine, for god only knew what reasons, didn't seemed bothered – he seemed fond and warm as he laughed and shook his head.

"You're precious" he said, pulling Merlin for another kiss.

And, hell, the man knew how to kiss.

It didn't matter that his stubble was scratching Merlin's face or that some of his ridiculously perfect shiny hair kept on tickling Merlin's cheekbones, because Gwaine was kissing him and it was beyond anything he could have dreamed. He simply didn't have the imagination – the experience – to picture it.

It was just too much; Merlin could get dizzy from the way Gwaine rubbed his lower lip over his mouth or how Gwaine bit him into opening his mouth and licked to sooth the raw skin but it was even worse the way forcefully had grabbed Merlin's shirt and shrugged it off only to run his finger into his back so lightly that it was more a ghost of a touch than the real thing, making his skin go rigid with goose bumps.

He could do little but stand there, pliant and needy, moaning into Gwaine's mouth, gripping his hips as if it were the only thing keeping him standing – it certainly weren't his _knees_ since they had long since given up any pretence of working.

His breath hitched as Gwaine opened up his belt and helped him shrug off his come-stained pants, letting him naked in the living room. Merlin felt terribly self-conscious as Gwaine took a step back and just drank his nakedness, his eyes roaming through Merlin's much slender frame but as the man licked his lips looking at Merlin's cock, it stood to full attention, all embarrassment forgotten in a rush of desire. Gwaine moved on, circling the younger man as if it were a prey, eyeing him fully as if he was evaluating his latest purchase – he could only hope he wouldn't be found wanting.

"Beautiful" Gwaine said, sliding his hand through Merlin's hips and giving him a soft kiss as he finished his turn.

He had no idea how to react to that – thank? Say the same? He had absolutely _no_ idea, but Gwaine didn't seem to mind his awkwardness.

"But very unfair" he went on after a few seconds, smirking at Merlin.

Before he could even ask why or what was unfair, Gwaine was ripping out his shirt, leaving Merlin to gape at his perfect shoulders, modelled chest and impossible abs until Gwaine was popping up the bottom of his jeans – the lean, hard line of his cock disappearing as he opened up the zipper and reappearing as the piece of cloth hit the ground, leaving him in dark blue boxers.

He moved quickly after that, pulling Merlin close again and redirecting his kisses to Merlin's neck, mouthing his adam's apple, grabbing Merlin's hips and rubbing himself against his thigh. And Merlin couldn't hold himself anymore, his lack of experience paling next to the rush of lust that ran through his veins as he groped Gwaine shamelessly – arms and shoulders, back and buttocks, scratching Gwaine's thighs and grabbing his cock through his pants and moaning in relief at finally having it in his hand.

Merlin felt Gwaine's soft chuckle more than he heard, but there was no mistaking the tone as the older man moved to lick his earlobe.

"This is going to be a long night."

Gwaine allowed him to grope, but Merlin always found the angle a bit off – a bit awkward whenever he had tried to jerk off someone else. After a few excruciating seconds of relief, the older man held his hand, adjusting it while exposing his cock. Merlin couldn't help but look at it; the way it filled his hand, naturally longer than broader than his – Gwaine let him, smiling all along.

"Have you done this before?" he asked, his voice hoarse and Merlin felt the blush tinting his skin.

"Some" he replied, looking away, but Gwaine was having none of that.

The man took his hand away, lightly, and pressed closer, palming both of their pricks at once. He allowed his hand to move slowly as he kissed his way up Merlin's neck and pouted until he was kissed and for the first time the younger man realized he was a bit taller. He moaned as Gwaine's mouth touched his, hot and wet, his tongue delving inside Merlin's sensitive mouth, but the kiss didn't last. Instead, Gwaine moved towards his ear and whispered, his breath making Merlin tremble and his hips jut forward.

"What have you done before?" he asked, and his voice was even filthier than his words.

"Just basic stuff" Merlin replied, his voice unsure. "Never..."

"No fucking?"

He didn't even have the courage to give him a proper answer, merely shaking his head.

"We'll change that" Gwaine promised, twisting his hand in a way that made Merlin yelp. "So you have no idea what you'd like best, yeah? Topping, bottoming... We'll have to try it all..."

He left the words hanging as his hand picked up the pace, and Merlin knew his mouth was opened up like a fish – at least it couldn't be seen. And, well, it's not like he hadn't imagined both, but he didn't really _know_. He certainly hadn't considered the possibility of Gwaine giving him options – hell, he hadn't _thought_ about this happening for real, Gwaine Green picking him up from a crowded dance floor; but not even in his wildest dreams he had imagined that the man would ask him to top.

"You still haven't told me" Gwaine interrupted his line of thought that was getting lost under the feeling of his hands anyway "what exactly was that basic stuff?"

Merlin knew he was blushing and he could tell Gwaine loved it, licking the reddened spots in his neck and biting his left cheek before mouthing his earlobe again.

"Jerking someone else off, I'd imagine" he continued to speak and Merlin only nodded lightly, but nothing the occasions he and Mordred had gotten high and tried things out were nothing like _this_. Gwaine moved his hands, letting go of them and cupping his backside before speaking again. "Fingering?"

Merlin held up Gwaine's head and kissed him back, trying to be as through as Gwaine had been kissing him, and it must have worked because the other man moaned, spreading Merlin's cheeks apart and touching around his hole. Merlin couldn't help but clench for a moment before pushing back against the delicious teasing, and Gwaine parted their lips with a chuckle.

"I'll take that as a yes" he said, smirking, before biting Merlin's lower lips. "Blowjobs?"

"Yes" Merlin replied because, well, he _had_ and it was hard to feel ashamed when it made Gwaine whine in anticipation.

"Giving or receiving?" he asked, moving back to look full on Merlin's face.

"Both?" Merlin asked back, unsure.

"Do you like it?"

Gwaine was holding his own cock, squeezing it and it was hypnotizing. He licked his lips in wanting to explore the man's body with his mouth and tongue, all over those expenses of skin, the hardness of his muscles and the softness of his hair. The roguish, indecent, horny expression in Gwaine's face – and he, Merlin, had done it, and he hadn't even... – it pushed him into being himself again, the man he usually was and not the bumbling boy that Gwaine had made come with one kiss.

"I love sucking it" he said boldly, smiling for the first time since it all begun.

He saw Gwaine squeeze himself particularly hard and sigh before taking a few steps back and leaning against the bar stool.

"Show me."

And Merlin was more than ready to comply.

Merlin's relationship with blowjobs was, in a single word, intense. It was also deeply committed and as enduring as those of middle-school sweethearts that were still together half-way through college. Arguably, if there could be something that turned a person gay; in Merlin's case, it would have been blowjobs.

Spoiler alert: there isn't.

It was still how he first figured out he was different – how he first noticed that he might be a tiny little bit gay.

Or, you know, gayer than a maypole. Whatever.

Because the first time Will & the boys had managed to bypass parent security and get their hands on some porn, it had, as most straight porn, a blowjob. Merlin could still remember the loud voices of the overtly excited boys as they talked about _her mouth_ , and how he couldn't stop watching it either – the way it moved, the way she licked, the way it seemed impossible that she could fit it all in, the way it must taste, how would it feel in his own mouth and…

Well, needless to say, _that_ wasn't exactly the expected turn of things and he had rushed home, confused and aroused. He endured with good humor the teasing from the other boys about him being too easy and needing too much to jerk off to wait around – it was better than having them suspect that he had actually pictured himself in the woman's place, down on his knees, mouth open wide.

It _was_ still what fuelled his fantasies most often, even after the whole Edwin debacle.

If _that_ hadn't taken the joy out of it, probably nothing ever would.

Because Edwin? He was a complete ass.

No, cross that – Merlin actually liked asses. He couldn't say the same about Edwin.

Edwin had been Merlin's first foray into, well, actual sex-stuff – the cliché of the clichés, since Edwin was absolutely straight and mostly known for having both the smarts and the looks – as well as all the girls he could wish. Merlin had been showering after PE (after everyone else had left; he hadn't wanted to look and the best way to deal with temptation was, of course, avoiding it) when Edwin had walked in. Merlin tried his best not to give him notice, even when he had chosen to shower right next to where he was standing.

Merlin wasn't out, then – and had been terrified that his body would betray him. He had rushed with his shower, trying to scramble out as fast as he could, eyes straight ahead, until he had turned to pick up his towel and _seen_.

Edwin had been jerking off.

Merlin had been fifteen and horny as hell, and his body responded to the image immediately even while his mind freaked out at it to stop. If he were lucky, Edwin would miss it and…

Edwin's hand had reached and grabbed Merlin's cock, and he had let out an undignified yelp. He had already turned off his shower; he had been ready to leave, although now he wasn't so sure, especially after the other boy gave him a smoldering look (or so he had thought then, when he had no clue) and opened up his mouth to speak just two words.

"Suck me."

And Merlin had – fifteen and scared to death, soaked wet and freezing in late February's chill, down his knees, swallowing as much of Edwin as he could, allowing him to push and pull him through his longish hair. There had been no more words just moans and hunger, wanting to bring himself to completion but fearing it, until Edwin had pulled himself out of Merlin's mouth and came in his face. Almost four years later he could still feel the terrible emptiness when Edwin had simply turned around and left, leaving him to skip the following period as he cleaned himself and got rid of his frustration.

Then it happened again. And again. And again after that – every week after PE. Until the term was almost over, and somehow he found himself in a party in someone's ridiculous grand house – Ralph Milano, he'd never forget – and Edwin had pushed him into the bathroom suit in Ralph's room, and they had been caught by Ralph himself.

Edwin had blamed Merlin; had said it was _just fun_ and that he _sucked like a girl_ – indeed, he had pointed out to Ralph the way he was _such_ a girl, from his plump lips to his eyelashes and Merlin had been too scared to move or to deny as Edwin offered Ralph a go at Merlin's mouth. This had been accepted, right before he had been thrown out without washing; his face and clothes stained with cum and the object of ridicule to all the party. They booed him and called him a cocksucker - he couldn't even deny it.

That was when he first met Mordred – a year younger than him, out and proud in his dark, gothic way of his. He had taken Merlin from the party and back to his place and helped him clean; given him another shirt and a shoulder to cry on. Like a girl. He had offered to call Merlin's mom and have him over through the night – Mordred's parents had been incredibly supportive as well – but Merlin had been so terrified, so scared that Mordred was trying to get something out of it that he just left without even a goodbye.

Mordred had forgiven him, naturally.

Good thing too, since no one was speaking to him anymore – although they all seemed to be speaking _about_ him. Even Will, who had been his best friend since they had both been in nappies, said nothing but sulked silently, his face looking even angrier with the shiner he was sporting. Mordred stayed by his side.

It had been a terrible end of term, and the first time in his whole life that his grades had suffered.

It took him _weeks_ to learn that Will's shiner had been Edwin's courtesy as he had called both boys on their hypocrisy and gotten physical in his defense of Merlin. The attitude, on the other hand, had been because of the long kept secret about Merlin's preference for man – the first part he had learned through Mordred as he filled him up in things that happened after they left. The second had become clear as Will showed up in his house while his mother was at the hospital to yell at him for being a shitty friend.

Then he had asked if it meant he could ask Freya out, something he had been wanting to do for _ages_ but hadn't because had seen Merlin and her talking and laughing during one of the school's football games. Merlin had gladly agreed and their friendship was mostly restored to normal apart from Will giving up on waxing poetic about every pair of boobs he saw ("you're losing it, mate!") and pleading him not to give details ("I don't wanna hear it – mind you, I wouldn't want to picture you having sex with chicks either; it's _off limits_ ").

While Mordred, well, him and Will learned to deal with each other, somewhat. They'd disagree about most things, but bonded over Merlin making terrible decisions (see: the Gilli conundrum; Cedric-gate and Daegal's Issue) and social injustices. Merlin and Mordred had even tried hooking up, but it always felt weird and somewhat unnatural. They were too much alike, which often left them giggling like schoolgirls – it also didn't help that they wouldn't even contemplate it unless they were really high or really drunk. Will said it was a gay failure – and a blessing, too, because they'd become the angstiest, clingiest couple ever.

They had also both agreed that while pining for Gwaine Green was somewhat inevitable ("The dude has the hair of a film star – a _female_ one" Will always said), it would never come to anything.

Clearly, they had been wrong.


End file.
